Last Thoughts
by pen-for-sword
Summary: "Your mother and father probably threw away their belongings and thesis and replaced it with the bear and this letter.." As they plummeted to their deaths on that fateful day, Ichinose Koutarou and Mizue performed one last act of love for their daughter.


_"Your mother and father probably threw away their belongings and thesis and replaced it with the bear and this letter.."_

The Ichinose couple had had their fair share of turbulent flights, but since their departure, something had felt... wrong... about this one in particular. Their fears became reality two hours into the flight.

It started when the pilot abruptly announced over the intercom: "I don't... know how to say this... * _sob_ * We.. the plane... the plane is going down! It's going down, and oh, _God_ , there's nothing - nothing we can do about it!"

It started with a stunned silence, when - _"Nooooo!"_ A young girl shrieked, voice trilling with fear. "I don't wanna die!"

"This can't be happening, this can't be happening!" A man half-muttered, half-sobbed. "Please let this be a dream!"

Suddenly, the entire plane broke out into a mass confusion of screaming, crying, and devastated wailing.

Amidst the chaos, Ichinose Koutarou shakily reached for his wife's hand. Funny how a life-or-death situation could so easily set one's priorities straight. Only a couple hours ago, they had been arguing - but now he could barely remember over what. " _Anata_..." He squeezed her hand.

Mizue, bold, fearless Mizue who had stolen his heart back in highschool - she trembled like a leaf now, eyes wide and wet and looking so very, very young. Though fear for himself sat like a heavy rock in his gut, Mizue would always be more important. He'd sworn, once, that he would die for her - yet how could that be possible? They were going to die together.

"My baby..." Mizue murmured. "Kotomi... My poor baby! She's going to grow up without her parents.. Oh, Koutarou!" She began to weep silently.

"Now, now.. she'll be alright," he tried to assure her. "Our colleagues will see to her every need... Daijirou has agreed to be her guardian.."

"She's not even ten years old yet," his wife wept. "Oh, oh, today is her birthday! Oh, I'm such a fool! I should have stayed home! We should have been there for her birthday - Koutarou! Her present!"

Frantic hands tore at her seatbelt and made a grab for the precious bundle in front of her - a soft, cuddly teddy - the largest in the store. Trembling hands caressed the plush, cradling it as if it were her own child.

"Mizue.. what..?" He'd given up even the tiniest shreds of pride he never thought he had. Tears poured down his face, sobs catching in his throat as reality dawned on him. To never see his child again, to never hold her in his arms or kiss her goodnight! It was too much to bear.

"She must have this," she said, fierce determination colouring her voice. "She wanted one so very much, she must have it! Help me, Koutarou!"

He moved without thinking. The briefcase by his side was quickly opened, its once-precious contents dumped on the floor in favour of this much more valuable cargo.

The roaring of the plane was deafening in his ears. Soon - soon it would be all over.

"Here, Koutarou," Mizue's voice called to him. It was quieter, calmer. He glanced at her with frantic speed, hands still trying to stuff the bear into the case.

A sheet of lined paper was held out to him, a piece of paper and a pen. "She needs a birthday card to go with it."

Soon.. Soon he and Mizue would be gone. They would be in eternity, to face whatever fate that awaited them after death. Somehow, as he wrote, that did not bother him as it should have. Their love as a family was strong, he knew. Surely whatever god up there, if there was one at all, would not be so cruel as to separate them forever.

He passed the paper to his wife, who carefully wrote a few lines before sealing the envelope. It was slipped into the suitcase and shut tightly. She handed it to him, and as always, he placed it under his seat.

They sat back now, holding hands. His eyes met hers, and she smiled. He smiled back, and they both pretended not to see each other's tears.

 _I love you_.

There was a roar of engines, a mighty shout, a deafening crash of waves - then darkness, and no more.

Tossed by the waves, battered, but unbroken, a metal suitcase, carried by the hands of love, made its way to shore.


End file.
